[Intro: Tech N9ne]
The Great Omnipotent Doc Strange is my name!
Six-six-triple-eight-four-six-nine-nine-three
Never don't try find me
Why? Why? Cause I'm lost in the clouds
N9ne? Earregular boss in the house
[Verse 1: Tech N9ne]
I don't hear what you hear, n***a
Because I hear different you label me a wierd n***a
I like that, and I like mixing dark and some clear liquor
For the night cap, although we ain't the same I cheers with ya
Then I'm right back, listning to Doors records
While I get groupie who*es naked
If it's a blood and gore message, in a movie I'll sure catch it
My brain's a vorplex it, got many levels, your message
Make a n***a want to ignore that sh**, y'all pissy poor, that's it
Intricate bred I'm a bit, pompous, if I want it, that I'mma get
While you're mad at your b**h
Cause you know she at the back of the bus kissing the tat on my dick
You gotta be sick, then I had her, thick anatomy, hit with the flattery tricks
Stagger these raggety battery pricks
Snake and bat ain't average, that'll be quits
On one, two, three, my n***a!
Doing four much with five, I be, my n***a!
Six thousand and seven hundred degrees, my river!
Ate a earregular mind state, but it fried N9ne's liver, huh?!
[Hook: Tech N9ne] (x2)
Earregular, we're nebula
Dear secular listeners, we're here next to ya
Giving you fear messed with original weird stress for ya
Peer pressure, the ignorant near deaf n***as!
[Verse 2: Tech N9ne]
I know that my style is diff'rent!
Meanwhile I get frowns and lips bent
He better know, we let it go, flee, never throw, glee at a ho, see that a pro
Will make the sounds breaking down the distance
I get my psyche blown, when I sit and write these songs
Then I f** with my Nikes on: "Plop, plop, plop, plop!"
To the women it might be wrong, cause in the middle of the night he gone
And the wife of the night she's home: "Stop, stop, stop, stop!"
So many sicknesses that I get medicine, I get it up off a n***a
But it can never disappear, I know many get with this
But it's a couple of really stupid individuals looking for the N9na fate
Cause I innovate, and I be the Yates, they can disintegrate
Guess my sin it begins with the number before ten
And being a clown, always been and raised!
When I rhyme my design isn't mindless
You can find Tech, flowing up the divine stretch
Never spineless, spider K's a rhyme vet
And we ain't the only earregular since I got Stevie, Mayday and I signed Ces
[Hook] (x2)
[Verse 3: Tech N9ne]
Y'all motherf**ers stuck on stupid (Duh!)
I tried to slow it, but my flow's no lucid, thing
I gotta be clever to do "This Ring"
You can feel it if you 67 or you 15 ("Aggin!")
Yeah, that's "n***a" backwards, Tech N9ne be that spitter master
With a Cris, with her mugs, and I'm with a grasher
Let a chick on the bus and I'm finna smash her
Could have been a ba*tard
Swimming in cash and the laughter, I'mma sinner faster
Better get a pastor
[Hook] (x2)